What Have You Done
by Justabibliophile
Summary: We all know how Eliza reacted to The Reynolds Pamphlet, but what about everyone else? (COMPLETE.)
1. Thomas Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson had called Alexander Hamilton an idiot plenty of times, along with a plethora of words that also insulted his intelligence. Did he believe them? Yes, yes he did. But Hamilton's stupidity had risen to new heights.

" _The charge against me is a connection with one James Reynolds for purposes of improper speculation,_ " James read out loud. They were seated at a table where just seconds before, James had burst in with his own copy of the Reynolds Pamphlet. Despite the fact that Thomas usually scoured for ammunition to use against Hamilton, he had missed this one. Truly a pity, since this was his strongest weapon yet.

" _My real crime is an amorous connection with his wife, for a considerable time with his knowing consent._ "

"Damn," Thomas muttered. He had already known this, of course, in the ever-awkward meeting where Hamilton had given them far too much information than Thomas needed to know. But seeing the man put the words on paper, and so bluntly? He wasn't holding back.

" _I had frequent meetings with her, most of them at my own house. Mrs. Hamilton with our children being absent on a visit to her father._ " James paused. "And I'm not going to read anymore, I believe you understand what just happened. This thing is ninety pages..."

Ninety pages!? "Stupid." He shook his head. "Completely _stupid_." Thomas had certainly done worse things but this was just _stupid._ People everywhere had spread rumors and whispers about him through the country. Even Hamilton himself had done some things to encourage them. But Thomas had simply laughed in their faces. He'd completely ignored them, didn't bat an eyelid when they were brought up, flashed his wealth and his power. Reminded everyone why he was a respectable guy who they could trust.

But this? This was just _stupid._

"He's so stupid," Thomas echoed. "I've never seen anyone this stupid."

"Could you find a better word?" James asked mildly. His voice sounded as uninterested as it usually did, but no one could deny the surprise in his eyes as he looked down on the pamphlet.

"I just-why? _Why_ would he do it?"

"Are you complaining?" James asked. It was a little frustrating that his best friend wasn't talking about what was the highlight of Thomas's year-no, his _life._ Then again, he probably didn't want to break down into a coughing fit.

"Of course not-just, _why?_ " He leaped up from his chair and stared down at the pamphlet, almost jealously. "I've done things that are-"

James paused and gave him a long look.

"I-I'm not excusing his actions, of course," Thomas stammered, correcting himself. "But this is…ridiculous. He's flaunting it. He's proud of it!"

"His words spoke of shame," James pointed out.

"That's not how it sounded to me." A realization struck him. "And it may not sound like that to other people too!"

Now another truth slammed into Thomas-that his political rival had essentially torn his reputation limb from limb and dug himself into a hole that led to the center of the Earth. All he had to do was bury the entrance.

A childish glee lit up inside him. What were the papers saying? How was everyone reacting? John Adams had lowered the chances of Hamilton becoming president with his own disastrous administration, but there were still people out there who hung onto the loud mouth's every word. And they'd certainly heard of this.

A heavy weight was immediately lifted from Thomas's shoulders. He had nothing personal against Hamilton…okay, that wasn't exactly true. But their friction came from the fact that Hamilton simply wouldn't do as the president. It would be like handing the reins of a horse to a toddler. They'd crash in seconds.

Now, Thomas didn't have to worry about his beloved country being destroyed. They were completely safe…alright, so Hamilton probably thought _Thomas_ was unfit to lead America, but no one was going to be listening to his opinion anyway.

"How do you feel?" he asked eagerly. As it was considered unprofessional to gloat, (since he would be judged…harshly) Thomas usually raced to his best friend in order to brag. Alright, so James usually had a dead look in his eyes that said quite clearly he was judging Thomas as well, but he liked to ignore that.

James's eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. Thomas never understand why, but he noticed over the years James usually avoided insulting Hamilton himself. He said his financial plan was a problem, said he was very talkative, very unskilled, but never was Hamilton directly affronted. Maybe it was because of the fact that Hamilton and James used to friends, (something Thomas did not like to think about) but he'd thought that phase was over.

"…Satisfied," he said simply. He stared down at the floor with a meaningful look in his eyes. "All my life he's out written me. I wrote the Bill of Rights, most of the Constitution. Yet everyone always ran to him…it's just…nice to see his words betray him."

 _His words,_ Thomas noted. _Not him._ "I agree," he added anyway. "But I almost feel bad for him. It's just so… _stupid._ " He sighed. "I think we all knew he was going to snap and say something wrong eventually but… _this._ " He shook his head.

"I know," James replied. "I feel bad for his family. His poor wife…"

"Yes," Thomas said. "But we can fix that. We can turn the attention away from his family and onto him instead." He reached for a copy of the pamphlet and started to walk away.

James stared at him in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I don't think everyone has read this yet. I'm sure they will if they get some... _support._ "

James rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know…"

"We're not actually doing anything against him," Thomas pointed out. "We're just spreading what he did to himself."

James sighed and then reluctantly followed with another copy of the pamphlet. Thomas couldn't deny he was very excited to revel in his political rival's despair. Hopefully Hamilton himself would be there to watch.

But damn…he was so _stupid._

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this funny one, because the majority of these are very angsty. This is going to be a seven part story. Next up is Burr. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Aaron Burr

**Note: I referred to Burr's wife as Theodosia and Burr's daughter as Theo to avoid any confusion.**

* * *

Burr wished he could say he'd felt disgusted.

Wished he could have looked upon the words chronicling Hamilton's affair and immediately watch as any shred of respect he had for the man vanished.

Unfortunately, that wasn't what happened.

He went through a range of emotions, starting with complete astonishment. He'd locked himself away inside his house, not wanting to trouble his wife and daughter with the news. They didn't know Hamilton personally, so perhaps they wouldn't care, but this was cheating, and he intended to keep Theo's innocence intact for as long as possible.

Why, why would Hamilton publish the affair? More importantly, why was Burr even surprised? He was a little disgruntled as he had been hoping to keep this information to himself and use it against him later, then guessed that Hamilton would come up with some insane way to cope with it.

But _this?_

He felt a twinge of pity for Hamilton's wife and family. Theo looked up to him unconditionally, and thought he could do no wrong. He knew that vision would disappear someday, but at least his mistakes would be the same as everyone else's. But not for Hamilton. As much as he disliked the man, he'd always had a bit of understanding when it came to how he loved his son. This would shatter his son's image of him-and so soon too.

The thought of understanding _Hamilton_ of all people gave way to another emotion: sympathy. Very grudging sympathy, but it was still there. Besides the way they treated their children, they also had an affair in common.

Burr was never proud of his affair. Yes, he wouldn't give Theodosia up for the world, but that doesn't mean he was happy with how he'd gotten to her. He'd been with her while she was married to another man.

Then, he remembered what the people had been saying, that though Hamilton's wife hadn't made an official statement, she could be seen walking through the streets. People swore they saw dry tears and a hollow look of despair. Some even said they'd witnessed her crying.

Clearly, the affair was putting her in pain. Was this what Burr had done to…no…

He caught a glimpse of Theodosia and immediately his mind pushed that away. Theodosia was married, but the marriage was loveless. Married to a man who was fighting for a side she didn't even believe in. She was tied by the constraints of society and still managed to save the revolution in her own way. At first it was admiration. Then adoration. Then love.

 _Love._ That was it. That was the key. Burr had seen Theodosia's personality and could not ignore its beauty. Their conversations would leave him feeling like Ben Franklin with a key and a kite. He was well known for having a completely blank expression, but after meeting her he'd have a small smile on his face, even when he was just thinking.

But Hamilton already had a woman that he'd loved, or that he should have loved. When he saw Maria, that was it. He only saw her. Her appearance, her body. Not her personality. They likely weren't even compatible. It was all physical. A relationship as devoid of love as Theodosia and her husband, Maria and James Reynolds.

It was even clear in the pamphlet, though Hamilton was ashamed of his actions, he also blamed Maria. How she'd _seduced_ him.

Burr didn't blame Theodosia. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to live without her. He wasn't sure if he blamed Maria either. Yes, she'd ended up getting him blackmailed, but she was trapped in a loveless marriage. No, an abusive one...

…And there was Theo, coercing him to come out of his hiding place. As Burr stumbled out, he quickly hid the pamphlet in his pocket, crumbling the paper.

"What are you doing?" Theo eyed him suspiciously. As much as he wanted her to leave him alone, he couldn't help but he proud that he had a raised a daughter who would never let anyone walk over her. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep her safe.

"Nothing." Wasn't he supposed to be a lawyer?

Theo watched him carefully.

"Really, it's nothing. Why don't you write letters to that new friend you were telling me about?"

"Oh, you mean Philip!" Theo asked eagerly.

"Philip?"

She froze. "Philip…a.. Phillipa. That's their name."

"We'll have to meet each other some time." He wasn't trying to distract Theo anymore. Obviously as her father, it was his solemn duty to meet and interrogate anyone she came into contact with to make sure they would never hurt her.

Still, it worked and she finally left him alone. He walked through the house, a tornado still swirling in his mind. He had to admit, he felt a little happy that his enemy had essentially destroyed his reputation. Yes, it made him feel guilty but at least he wasn't gloating. Unlike Thomas Jefferson.

Honestly, was that supposed to be a victory dance of some sort?

Even that thought couldn't distract him. He couldn't deny how uncomfortable it was to have something so unique in common with his enemy. The situations were different, but when all the details were stripped away, they looked identical.

It was very easy to dislike Hamilton, after all. Their ideologies, the very morals they lived their lives by were the complete opposite. Hamilton was everything Burr wasn't, everything Burr didn't want to be.

Yet this had brought up an unwanted memory, a memory from a time where Burr and Hamilton were friends. Hesitant friends, but still. When Hamilton, while quite annoying, was still at least entertaining to speak to. When they had bonded over their shared flirtations and goals. When Burr had congratulated Hamilton on his marriage and admitted his affair.

"She's married."

"I see." Hamilton's second reply hadn't been very kind, but this one? Calm, understanding. The behavior that would have earned Burr a shouting from anyone else was being acknowledged by Hamilton. And it was fine. Then, he'd been grateful that Hamilton understood.

Now, he was anything but.

A new emotion grasped him, this time a feeling of dread. While they'd had opposing ideologies for much of their lives, Burr had recently taken Hamilton's advice of not throwing away his shot and ran for Senator. It had worked out in his favor. But it had worked out in Hamilton's favor too. At first. Now, it had ruined him.

Would it ruin Burr too?

But as his eyes came upon the person he'd been searching for: his beautiful wife, Burr gently shook the thought away. It would be alright. After all, he had Theodosia, and that was all he needed.

* * *

 **Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it…I'm sorry. But seriously, Burr and Theodosia need more love in this fandom. And about Maria, did you all know the real life Aaron Burr was actually Maria's lawyer for getting her out of her marriage? Wish that'd been included. Thank you all for reading, please leave a review! Next up is the Reynolds.**


	3. The Reynolds

**Disclaimer: This chapter does not feature explicit physical abuse, but it is implied.**

It was like fire.

James Reynolds felt fire as he heard the news. He hadn't left his house in days, nor had Maria or Susan. He never let them leave anyway, and they knew better than to defy him.

He hadn't much reason to. He'd never made the effort to work in any job he came across. When he got word that the ever wealthy Alexander Hamilton was living nearby, the plan was already set in motion. It had been difficult getting Maria to comply, as she didn't feel like breaking up a marriage. But he'd gotten that taken care of.

Soon, the money was rolling in. All he had to do was sit and watch. It was supposed to be perfect.

Now, it was all coming to bite him in the back.

That scheming-he had published it. Hamilton had published the details of the affair. Personally insulted him for being a blackmailer, even put the letters in for all to see.

It was like a ticking time bomb. The pamphlet had only been published recently, and Reynolds knew he wouldn't have to wait long until people realized that the James Reynolds who'd manipulated Hamilton is the same James Reynolds living nearby.

Assault? Death threats? It hadn't even started and he was already unsure of when it would end.

They would come after him. He'd never be accepted anywhere again. He wouldn't be able to send his wife after anyone else. No one would fall for it. No one would hire him.

He was doomed.

Because of _him._ Reynolds let his fist fly and it smashed into the wall. In the next second, the fire was not just in his brain, but pulsing through his skin, his bones.

Had he _broken_ something? That would be a problem, especially since he couldn't afford to get it fixed. Because of…

He couldn't attack Hamilton. The realization made him let out another scream of frustration. He'd done everything right, how it had all fallen apart!?

That was when another realization set in. Alright, so he couldn't attack Hamilton. So he couldn't punch a wall or throw furniture.

Reynolds would figure out what to do next. He would formulate a plan, he would push aside whoever got in his way. He would get everything together.

But for now, he had other ways of taking his anger out.

* * *

Maria had been crying for hours.

It's not like this was a surprising occasion. She'd been crying forever. She'd been crying ever since she was chained to him. To the monster who had imprisoned her inside his house.

She remembered their wedding day clearly. She was only fifteen. Her parents weren't financially secure enough, they couldn't support her. And James Reynolds seemed nice enough to them. They handed her over rather quickly. Her emotions weren't angry or upset…just…nothing. Complete indifference. She'd be fine, wouldn't she?

Then he revealed the man who he really was.

Susan's birth brought upon the house sun and storm. It was a child, it was her _daughter._ Maria vowed to dedicate every day to her. To make the world right for her until she could blow her away…

But it was impossible to raise Susan when they lived with him. He didn't wait, if anything, he seemed to be excited about having a second person to take his rage out on whenever he felt the need to.

It felt unfair. That everyone else got the chance to bleed and fight for their child, and she could do nothing but hug her every night and dry her tears. But no, Reynolds wasn't done with her yet.

She didn't want to do it. She truly didn't want to. She'd seen Hamilton and his wife. They'd have walks through the gardens. They looked at each other with such passion. The passion Maria wished she could have had. She wouldn't wish her life on anyone.

But Reynolds had ways of being persuasive.

Now, she looked back upon the words describing the affair in frozen horror. As they painted her in an ugly light. She was sure he hadn't meant to hurt her or throw it all on her directly.

But she knew that wasn't what anyone would think.

What had she done? She had torn apart a marriage. She had…she had…and Hamilton's wife. His sweet wife with the kind smile, what would she do? Did she hate Maria?

Did Maria deserve to be hated?

She had blamed herself all her life. Blamed herself for her family's struggles. Maybe if they didn't have to spend money feeding and educating her, they'd be better off. Blamed herself for what Reynolds did to her. Much as she resented him, it was always her fault. Maybe if she'd fought back… Blamed herself for being a failure of a mother. Susan probably only clung onto her because there was no else. She probably hated her.

She blamed herself for this too, but she couldn't help but feel betrayed.

Had she loved Hamilton? No. Their relationship was only physical. But that didn't mean they never spoke. Whereas any time Reynolds touched her, it was to cause pain, Hamilton hugged her gently. He was the first one to act like that towards her besides Susan. She'd become attached to him. At least when he came, she wasn't alone. She couldn't bear the thought of him leaving her alone with him, completely helpless…

But even though he hadn't said it directly, Maria knew she would never be seeing him again.

As she turned the pages, her heart shattered again. There were the letters. The letters she'd sent him. They didn't look personal to anyone else, but to her… It was unfamiliar to ever act tenderly towards someone. She finally had, and he'd told the world.

She lay there for a long time, letting a cold ocean wash over her, when the door opened. There stood her husband. Looking into his eyes, Maria immediately understood one thing. While the pamphlet had turned her into ice, it had turned him into fire.

And fire melts ice.

* * *

At least he didn't hurt Susan.

She didn't want to look. If she closed her eyes and she begged, maybe the pain would go away.

It didn't.

Blinking through a mix of tears, she saw a young girl. Susan. Her expression spoke of shock and horror. Seeing her mother…

As her daughter raced towards her, now comforting her mother instead of the other way around, while the abandoned pamphlet with her only friend's betrayal lay open on the floor, Maria silently made a decision.

She would make sure they escaped. No matter what.

* * *

 **I hated having Maria blame herself, because it was not her fault. Protect Maria Reynolds, everyone. (I know Maria had already left by the time the pamphlet was published, but it would be more dramatic if she had not. Thankfully, she does escape and has, at least, a happy ending.) Thank you all for reading, please leave a review! Next up is Washington.**


	4. George Washington

At first, Washington felt like it was his fault.

Not completely, but at least part of it had to be attributed to him, didn't it? Then again, he had a history of blaming himself. But this…

He should have been able to stop it. After returning to Mount Vernon, he essentially cut all ties from his political life. Honestly, he'd never wanted the job anyway. He'd dreamt and fantasized of being a soldier and then a martyr, and pretty soon he was general. America got down on its knees and begged him to lead. He couldn't say no to the country he'd fought so long to establish. He couldn't abandon them now.

He tried his best. Hired people he knew would do a good job to be a part of the government alongside him. Eight long years of cleaning up the mess the war left behind. Pulling the country out of debt and into a state of peace. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he'd tried.

When the time came to run for another term, he knew it simply wouldn't do. He wanted to go home to his wife and his kids. He wanted to stop spending every day of his life in a constant state of worry. Maybe that worry would never go away, but he had to at least try to alleviate it.

It had come as quite a shock indeed. Just when he'd been able to let go of the stress, push away the memories of death and blood, and enjoy time at home with his family, something had to come in and slap him in the face.

Washington had seen Hamilton and immediately felt a connection. He could see it-the nervous energy around the boy. The way he tapped his foot and wrung his hands in anticipation. How he was able to rally groups of people in seconds with his words. He stole British cannons for God's sake. He marched right up to Washington, wanting a position.

He both admired and feared for the boy. He saw the man he used to be, the one who joined the military at age twenty. The one who had plans to die. The one who dreamt of seeing his name in the history books. The one who woke up every morning with only one word in his mind: Legacy.

Hamilton didn't deny feeling the same way.

He'd been raised without a father and lost a mother young. He'd fended for himself his whole life, and though he knew he'd never admit it, he still needed a parental figure to fall back on. Washington didn't intend to be that figure, he'd just stumbled into the role.

It didn't take long for him to become over protective. In a way, he wanted to save the boy from making the same mistakes. But he also wanted him to learn on his own. The confused hazard of feelings, aided by the letter from his wife, made one thought clear in his mind. He needed to protect the boy. The boy wasn't ready for a positon that high, not to mention that he had a wife who would lose everything if he died. So would Washington.

At Yorktown, he was proud of Hamilton for rushing back home. Even more proud of the fact that now, he didn't want to die in war. He wanted to live and return home. Together, they'd won. He'd thought it was over. He thought Hamilton had learned his lesson.

He was wrong.

Maybe it _was_ his fault. He'd been the one who'd asked Hamilton to run the Treasury Department. Maybe he'd restarted those feelings. Maybe they were always in the back of his mind and were awoken. There was no way to tell. Either way, what happened was what happened.

Having Hamilton close by did help Washington keep a peace of mind, although that quickly changed when Hamilton and Jefferson started up a bitter rivalry. He was becoming too bold, too brash during the meetings. Washington didn't want the boy to get hurt, so he let it slide as best he could.

It hit him as his second term came to a close. Hamilton still hadn't learned. Washington had wanted to resign anyway, but now he would also be showing Hamilton that he would be leaving a position of power. Willingly. And how it was better, even. Killing two birds with one stone. It hurt to have to leave the boy he'd considered a son for so long, but it had to be done, right?

And now, Washington sat in the comfort of his own home. A home that suddenly didn't seem very comfortable. Hamilton had cheated on his wife. It all seemed wrong, jarring. Hamilton had gone to the Battle of Yorktown wanting to come out alive so he could return to his wife. What had gone wrong?

It was the pressure, he realized. Power was a blessing and a burden. Even more so for them in particular. They were making history. He'd thought he'd been able to teach Hamilton how to handle it.

But no. Hamilton had thrown out all warnings. No one would forget this. He'd told him again and again. History has its eyes on you. Did he just…forget?

A deep shame rose up inside Washington. Maybe if he'd stayed with Hamilton longer, maybe if he'd been a better father figure, maybe if…

But there was no maybe. He had spent his whole life obsessing over the maybes. Constantly going back and doubting every decision he'd ever made. He almost had to remind himself that he didn't write the pamphlet himself.

Yes, his son had made a mistake. A mistake that would be remembered for all time. And yes, maybe Washington had played a part in it. But there was no changing what had happened. What was done was done.

A coil of dread formed in his stomach. It had taken the deaths of his closest ones to finally get him to learn. Would Hamilton have to go through it the same way?

Washington shook his head lightly. He couldn't bear for his son to go through that. Especially since he wasn't sure he was going to be around long enough to comfort Hamilton if it did. He could only hope the Reynolds Pamphlet had taught him a lesson. That it was enough.

But for Hamilton, nothing was ever enough.

* * *

 **My level of appreciation for Washington just went up after writing this. Thank you all for reading, please leave a review! Next up is Laurens.**


	5. John Laurens

It was painful.

Laurens was now in a position where he could no longer feel pain, yet it still felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest.

He'd known Alexander to be rash and impulsive-he'd been the same way. The whole group had been like that. They'd bonded over it, in fact. It seemed almost amusing now, of course. How they'd sat around, toasting to each other and acting like they were wise. Like they weren't a bunch of naïve kids who had their whole lives ahead of them.

Laurens knew better now. But he was afraid Alexander didn't. This just proved his thoughts.

Dying had turned him into the man he could have been. If Laurens lived long enough, he could have become more rational, more thoughtful. Instead, he was robbed of that chance and cursed with the ability to only watch, only see, but be unable to do anything else.

It had always felt terrible. He'd stayed beside Alexander after he died. Watched as his… _friend_ rose through the ranks and conquered his enemies.

He had noticed there was something wrong though. Alexander had said it himself. To cope with Laurens' death he buried himself inside his work. He wrote and he wrote until he went through all his papers. Then, he would simply go and buy more.

Laurens would sit beside him. Ask him to put down the pen and go talk to his wife. Alright, he'd always been a bit jealous of Eliza, but he still knew she was a kind girl. Alexander wouldn't listen. He'd plead for Alexander to put the papers away and go play with his son.

Alexander wouldn't reply.

Laurens tried to reassure himself that it was alright. Alexander had gotten a wonderful new job. He'd had to leave his family to do it, but at least he got it. Laurens had said it himself. Do not throw away your shot.

But this was going too far.

He still tried to tell himself that everything would be okay. He could still see hints of the Alexander he'd cared so deeply for while he was still alive. When Alexander still fought to have slavery demolished on his behalf. But it never worked. At least he was trying…

It had become commonplace, soon. To see Alexander constantly writing, writing, writing. Staring at the endless pages of writing like if he didn't finish them now, he never would.

Laurens couldn't help but feel like it was all his fault.

Everything changed so quickly. The affair happened, Alexander's father in law lost his seat in the Senate. When he'd heard the news, a heavy ball of dread plunged into his stomach. He knew exactly how Alexander would react. Then Jefferson, Madison, and Burr confronted him with their accusations…

 _It'll be fine. It'll be alright. He won't do it._

And Alexander was standing in a room after they'd left. His eyes flashed with sorrow. There were tears that Laurens did not have the ability to dry. He could only watch.

 _He won't do it. He won't. It's too risky. Alexander was always one to take risks…but he won't do this. He won't._

And Alexander was walking, almost like a zombie, towards his desk. On it was his biggest enemy: an empty stack of papers, prompting him to write.

 _Oh no._

Laurens was distinctly aware of the fact that no one else was watching this happen. No one else had the power to stop it. Lafayette was back in France, Mulligan had gone to New York, Washington was in Virginia, Angelica was in London. Eliza…Alexander already knew how many times he'd hurt her. He wouldn't listen. And after all that had occurred, there was no else except for the many enemies Alexander had made himself. No one else.

He knew now that Alexander had lost it. That he genuinely believed he had nothing left to lose. He didn't think about his wife or his children or his career. He only thought of his past for the first time in decades. He only thought of his legacy. He was trapped in a mental state that was so far away from reality.

And he was writing and-

"Or you could let it go…!" Laurens' voice was so loud in his head, but Alexander didn't react. He was still writing, still sealing his doom and the doom of everyone close to him.

"Let it go…!" Laurens was never the man to beg, but now he was on his knees and staring at Alexander with earnest. His honor didn't matter anymore. He couldn't let Alexander do this. He cared too much.

It felt like minutes and hours had passed. As Laurens closed his eyes and tried to shatter the wall of death. Tried to reach out as far as he could. He knew Alexander hadn't forgotten him. He'd never forget all they'd been through. If he could just reach out…

A lantern of joy lit up inside him. Alexander's hand hesitated, the pen quivering across the page. He looked up.

"I'm here, I'm here!" Laurens called. Alexander didn't move. Listening…?

"Come on," he whispered. "Don't do this to yourself. You're worth more than this. Your family is worth more than this. It'll be alright. Just _let it go…_ "

Slowly, the pen rolled out of Alexander's hand and Laurens nearly wanted to cry with relief. It was going to be fine…

Then, Alexander slowly shook his head. He sat down and began to write again.

It was like a punch to the gut. Desperation sped through Laurens' veins. He needed to try again. He needed to get Alexander to listen.

He called out over and over again but Alexander did not react. It weakened Laurens to realize what he was thinking about. That he was dead. And that was the truth, wasn't it? He was dead. He was dead and Alexander could not hear him or see him.

He still tried and tried. All too quickly, Alexander stopped writing. He looked down at his newly finished writing, his voice dreadful and proud. "The Reynolds Pamphlet."

It was too late.

What happened next was too fast for Laurens to process. Suddenly, the pamphlet was being published. The headlines were raking Alexander's name through the mud. His closest companions now despised him. His enemies danced in delight. His followers threw him away.

Watching it all, Laurens felt so damn helpless.

Maybe if he'd done more. Maybe if he'd been stronger. Maybe he could've stopped it. Maybe none of this would be happening.

But he was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

 **If you haven't listened to the workshop version of Hurricane, you absolutely have to. This made me so emotional. I like to think I** _ **tried**_ **to keep the shipping undertones subtle…Oh well. Thank you all for reading, please leave a review! Next up is Philip.**


	6. Philip Hamilton

"It's not true," Philip said immediately.

His younger sister Angie stared up at him. There were still red tear tracks cemented on her face and she was shaking as she held the pamphlet. "Not _true?_ " she demanded.

"I-"

"How can you say that!?"

How _could_ he say that? It felt like he'd already memorized the pamphlet and yet his brain refused to process it. It couldn't be true. If it was true, then Philip's whole life was a lie.

Ever since he was a child, Philip practically worshiped his father. Yes, he didn't see him as much as he would have liked to, but that didn't mean he hadn't heard the stories. Everyone told tales of the brave, daring Alexander Hamilton. When it seemed like the revolution was doomed at the Battle of Yorktown, it was him that returned and led the army to victory. And it hadn't stopped there. While all his friends spoke of how their fathers did simple, average jobs, Philip could brag all day long about how his father was off trying to start America's bank. They would listen in complete awe just like he did when he first heard the stories.

Since then, Philip tried to echo his father's every move. Courageous, intelligent, not bad with the ladies either. Who else would he want to be? He didn't have to put much effort into it, already he was his father's man through and through. It was a detail that many people were quick to point out. He heard it everywhere. He didn't realize it at the time, but some people did not mean it as a compliment when they said it. Some people almost meant it as a warning, shaking their heads and wanting him to turn back. But Philip always dismissed the notion. Why would anyone hate his father?

That was one difference between Philip and his father. While he did put on an impressive façade, Philip was still hopelessly naïve. He assumed that anyone who disliked his father was rash, unreasonable, and a general threat to society. Someone whose words he should push away without giving a second thought to. Now, he had no choice.

It had been a normal day, Philip sauntering through the streets with a smile on his face. He was told it could brighten anyone's day. A pity he had to drop it so soon.

He noticed the commotion immediately. People crowding around, voices overlapping each other. Practically everyone was holding onto a pamphlet, their faces lit with shock.

In the front, Philip saw the three people whom he despised the most. Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and Aaron Burr. They were his father's enemies which meant they were his enemies too. They insulted him and they stopped him from spending time with his family. If they'd just accepted the financial plan, they could have spent the summer together. Why would they not? His father was the best, and they were idiotic for thinking otherwise.

The first thing he noticed was that they were happy and smiling. If they were happy and smiling, his dad was probably in trouble.

As soon as he hear what they were saying, his ears seemed to shut down. He caught bits of it. Everyone was screaming and shouting and staring in complete astonishment at the pieces of paper they all held.

" _Alexander Hamilton had a torrid affair…_ "

" _The charge against me is a connection with…_ "

" _My real crime is an amorous connection with his wife._ "

" _For a considerable time._ "

" _With his knowing consent._ "

No. It wasn't possible. It didn't matter that what they were saying matched his father's writing style. It didn't matter that they were using the words his father would often use. It didn't matter. It was all fake.

Jefferson caught a glimpse of Philip and tugged him forward, nearly trapping him between Madison and Burr. Pushing the pamphlet in his face. And the handwriting…the curves of the letters, the spaces between them. The same handwriting he'd spend his childhood seeing and trying to recreate. His father's.

" _I had frequent meetings with her, most of them at my own house_ ," they eagerly recited, sure to trace their fingers along the lines to make sure Philip saw.

" _At his own house,_ " Burr repeated, tapping the line. Madison soon followed.

Philip felt like he was suffocating. He was running, certain everyone was watching him as they continued reading aloud.

" _Mrs. Hamilton with our children being absent on a visit to her father._ "

It felt as if Philip was being crushed under the weight of his father's words. The words he had spent his childhood idolizing. His feet pounded against the ground as he ran. He didn't care where he was going, he just needed to get _out._

Sweat trickled down his skin as he finally came to a stumbling stop. He'd left behind the larger crowds but there were still smaller groups of people, all excitedly chattering about the pamphlet and handing out more copies. Not that they needed to. There were scattered sheets on the floor and flying through the wind. Why were there so _many?_

As he heaved and clutched his chest, he saw Angie racing towards him. Her eyes were set in stone and she held onto a crumpled copy of the pamphlet, forcing it into his hands.

And he read it.

He recognized everything. It was the same tone his father would speak to him in. He could hear his voice, reciting every detail word by word.

Now, Angie stood before him. They were completely alone, the others having been entertained enough by the torment of the Hamilton children and gone off somewhere else.

"We know it's real," Angie whispered.

But it couldn't be. It couldn't be. If this was true, then it went against everything Philip had stood for. He built the foundation of his personality on his father's. Charming, smart, confident. This was not the man he wanted to be.

He could not be a liar.

"It wasn't _just_ his fault." The statement was more directed at himself than at Angie. "Maria and James Reynolds also played a part…" Just saying their names left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't handle this. He wanted to shift the conversation away from his father... "Mother," he breathed. "How's mother?"

"I didn't see yet," Angie admitted, her face going dark. "I'm not sure if I want to. She probably feels so heartbroken…" But his father could not be a heart breaker. Philip could not be a heart breaker. Not a liar, not a cheater…

But it was all there, laid out before him in ink. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He wanted to pretend he'd never found out. Even though it would be impossible to. It just felt like such a betrayal. He could expect this from even the kindest people. The world was filled with cruelty and mistakes.

But his father? The one he'd looked up to all his life? Engaging in a crime like this?

"Philip?" Angie squeaked. It was then when he realized he hadn't moved.

"Mother," he replied. "We have to go find Mother."

Angie nodded. No matter how much this revelation had destroyed him, he knew it had undoubtedly left a deeper mark on his mother. She needed them now more than ever.

But it still didn't make any sense. His father wouldn't. He wouldn't. But he did. If he had become this man, would Philip? Was it time to throw out the personality he'd modeled his own after and make a new one from scratch?

No. Even if his father had fallen from grace, Philip would not. He would not make the same mistake. He would be like his father was before. The man he'd heard of in the stories would become real.

It wouldn't take long now. It was always Philip's instinct to defend his father. Even though it was like a battle of wills inside of himself, he knew he would run back to his father someday. Even if his mother didn't, even if his siblings didn't, the bond they'd built up was too strong to be broken. Yes, he would forgive.

But he would never forget.

* * *

 **We all know how it ends for poor poor Philip. Thank you all for reading, please leave a review! Next up is our finale: Angelica. (I know we already have Congratulations but I wanted to write it anyway.)**


	7. Angelica Schuyler

John Church was quite surprised when he entered his house and found his wife leaning against a wall, looking as if the very action pained her. She was clinging onto a pamphlet. Her eyes dug into the paper as if she wanted to set it on fire. The rims around her eyes were scarlet and they looked like shattered glass.

"I'm going to America." The statement was resolute and final. Angelica knew that Church surely wouldn't argue with her at a time like this. Yet he still blinked in shock. "Why-"

"Don't." Each word was delivered like a punch. "Don't even try. I am going to America right now. And you will not stop me."

He sighed tiredly. "Angelica, I can't leave right now…"

"Then don't." Her look seemed to vaporize him, her fists were clenched and she was shaking from fury. "I'll go myself. I don't care. I'm leaving. _Now._ "

Thankfully, Church saw no reason to argue with her. Angelica raced into her room. She screamed. Cried.

Nothing had broken her heart more than the night she had to give Alexander up. She'd always been frightened of being crushed under the weight of a society that expected from her what she did not want to give. But if she had him, if she had Alexander, she'd have an intellectual equal. She'd have a husband who would challenge her. Someone interesting that she could spend a beautiful lifetime with. She had loved him, wanted him so badly.

But she'd seen her sister. She'd seen Eliza with that same look in her eyes. That love struck gaze that one would only find in dreams.

She should've known it was a dream.

It was a shattering day indeed. If she didn't go with Alexander, Angelica knew it was unlikely she would ever find someone as intelligent as him again. She'd be married off like a piece of property to a man who did not love her, a man who saw her as nothing more than a wife.

But Eliza…Eliza was beautiful. God, she was beautiful. And not just in appearance, in the way she smiled at anyone, whether she needed to or not. In the way she wrapped you in a hug and whispered reassurances in your ear to make anyone feel better. She was kind and precious and so easily breakable in a world of greed and corruption. Angelica would not be able to bear if she was the one to break her dear sister.

That hadn't made the wedding any less torturous. She was elated to see her sister with joy on her voice. She always was. Even if that joy could have been hers. Even if she'd have to say goodbye to _him._ Looking with such adoration at a woman that she could never be.

Sorrow and delight mixed with each other as Angelica watched the newly wedded couple walk away, not sparing her a single glance. And despite the wave of emotions she felt, there was another one among them: Dread. She'd read Alexander like an open book when she first met him. He was the type of person who would race through life without looking back. The type of person to which time was not an ally, but a villain that needed to be conquered. Not like her sweet Eliza, who closed her eyes and smelled every flower on the sidewalk. Who soaked up every moment the world blessed her with.

Angelica would never be satisfied. She had a bad feeling Alexander wouldn't either.

But she still let it happen. She still let it happen because she knew nothing would make Eliza happier. And she still loved Alexander, she still put her faith in him. That night when the two of them walked away, Angelica entrusted him with her most valuable person. Eliza. A silent promise to keep her safe and protect her. She knew that with his ambition, he'd be able to get a job that would pay well and provide them a comfortable lifestyle. She knew he would love Eliza as she loved him.

So she sacrificed her life. She married John Church and traveled to London. Their relationship felt like a tomb, devoid of any passion or love. Almost like a prison she was doomed to be trapped in forever. There were times when she would have a breakdown while trying to sleep, wanting to crawl out of bed and run away.

And every time, she would close her eyes and see her sister. Her sister who hung the sun in the sky every morning. She would remember the scribbled letters Eliza sent her, going on and on about Alexander and how she loved him. How excited she was when he first proposed. How they'd held onto each other when she returned from home and met his son. The celebration they would have anytime a child was born.

Her sister was happy. And that was all she needed to calm her down.

There was still the tiniest bit of longing inside her. She too sent letters to Alexander at every possible moment. Listening to his troubles and trying her best to provide a solution. But it was still driving her crazy. She was tired of the ocean that separated them. He consumed her every thought. She just wanted to see him again.

She finally did get the chance, and she would get to see Eliza too. It was the most wonderful day she'd had in years. Finally being around people she genuinely cared about after being chained to her husband for so long. Her sister looked older, wiser. But she was living with an excited family and a lovely house, courtesy of…

Alexander. Seeing his eyes again, being able to hold him again. It was the greatest gift she could have gotten. Yet he had to toss it away by refusing to come with them. And Eliza…seeing the light dim in her eyes made Angelica want to scream. She was able to get her sister to return to her usual hopeful self during the trip, but they both knew it wasn't the same without Alexander. Not to mention that lingering feeling in her mind. _He will never be satisfied._

* * *

Now, she rode in a ship with nothing but the dull window to entertain her. And that pamphlet. That- _that._

She let out a howl of rage and ripped the corner off before letting out a sigh. It wasn't the pamphlet's fault. It was the one who wrote it.

So he'd been alone at the house, because _he_ refused to go along with them for the trip, a detail he miraculously seemed to have forgotten to mention. A girl comes in and begs him for help. Yes, that was always his flaw, wasn't it? He wanted to be the hero. He sees a helpless woman and next thing you know, he's thrown away him and Eliza's relationship for a complete stranger.

Those exciting weeks where her sister had stumbled in, gloriously raising another letter from Alexander with a permanent pink etched in her cheeks. The way she'd leapt into his arms at their wedding. The reason Angelica had sacrificed her life. The trust she had put in him to protect her. The years Eliza had spent loving him unconditionally. All of it erased by his words.

And he still had the nerve to blame _Maria_ for all this? He went on and on about how he simply couldn't say no…yet he had no trouble saying no to her and Eliza and breaking both of their hearts. He'd constantly pushed his wife away in order to write hundreds upon thousands of pages. Words that extended beyond Angelica's imagination. And yet he couldn't say no? He couldn't say _two_ letters!?

She'd thought that letting Eliza have him would make her life better. But now, her sister had lost everything. Why didn't Angelica see? Why did she love Alexander? Why didn't she listen to that voice in the back of her head? She'd trusted him and he'd betrayed her. She wouldn't have cared if it had been her who'd been hurt.

But Eliza was the one who was suffering.

And why? Reputation. _Legacy._ How she hated that word. Alexander would do anything for it. He was willing to destroy his family so long as he gets to be remembered. Something that he wouldn't even be alive to witness.

All sorts of people out there could get away with their crimes unscathed. But Heaven forbid someone say something against _Alexander._ Heaven forbid someone out there even have an ill thought of him. Instead, he has to shout and let the whole world hear him. Instead, he has to throw his wife and his kids and everyone close to him under the bus. Instead of letting the rumors die, he has to magnify them.

This was never about her or Maria or anyone else. It was always about him. Always about Alexander, all about his mistakes. And Eliza had been trapped in the battle.

* * *

She marched through the streets and she saw that same pamphlet being thrown in her face over and over again. People murmuring to each other, "What does his wife think?"

"Frankly, I don't blame him. She just wasn't good enough."

Wasn't good enough? _Wasn't good enough?_ Eliza was more than enough. Eliza was an angel to him. Eliza only asked him to stay alive and be true to her. That was enough for her. But for Alexander? Nothing was enough. He could never be satisfied.

It took ages, but she finally found him. His enemies stood over him, dancing in glee and delight. The image brought Angelica joy. He'd done this as a last defense against his rivals, and all he'd done was seal their victory.

And there he was.

Alexander stood, practically bent over in pain. The eyes Angelica had fantasized about for so many ears were now brimming with shame and failure. He looked so small, so alone as the entire town, the entire _world_ turned against him. Seeing him like that almost sparked the old, passionate feelings about her. The sacrifice she'd given him.

But he'd thrown that sacrifice away.

She would give him no mercy.

She raced towards him. "I came as soon as I heard!"

As soon as Alexander's eyes caught a glimpse of her, they lit up in hope. He looked at her as if she was his savior. "Angelica…" he murmured.

She had dreamed about him looking at her that way. Imagined what it would be like to hear her name on his lips like that. Now, the universe was finally giving her what she wanted. And it was all wrong.

"Angelica, thank God, someone who understands what I'm struggling here to do…" He reached for her hand and a bitter laugh lodged itself in the back of her throat. He seriously thought she had come for _him?  
_  
"I'm not here for _you,_ " she snapped, yanking her hand away. She heard gasps and realized that an entire crowd was watching. But she kept yelling. There was a small part of her that didn't want to shout at him. The part of her that hated seeing his eyes go dark in despair. But it didn't matter anymore. He had hurt her Eliza. She had trusted him, given up everything for him. Because nothing was enough for him.

 _Are you satisfied? Are you satisfied? Are you satisfied?_

That was the lingering question beyond her words. The sword she stabbed him with again and again. "God, I hope you're satisfied."

She didn't care that there were tears streaming from his eyes. She didn't care that she was leaving him in a crowd of merciless enemies. Let them taunt him. She had another job to do.

* * *

" _The Reynolds Pamphlet…"_

The climax of the crowd had finally died down and Angelica now marched through the empty streets, one target in mind.

 _"Have you read this?"  
_  
Abandoned copies of the pamphlet floated through the wind, crinkled from the hundreds of people that read through their contents.

 _"You ever seen somebody ruin their own life?"  
_  
Final murmurs discussing the pamphlet echoed in Angelica's ears. She was still only looking for one.

 _"His poor wife…"_

Finally, Angelica came across the familiar house. The door was still unlocked and she barely looked where she was going as she stumbled through the halls.

The door to Eliza's room was half open. There was her sister. She sat against a wall, clutching countless letters. The room smelled of smoke and fire. She looked up at Angelica, her eyes like ice, her face soaking wet.

"Help," she whimpered.

Angelica dived towards her. "I'm so sorry…" Eliza leaned her head against her shoulder and let out a defeated sob. "It's not your fault…You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun…"

There was no reply. There didn't need to be. So much was happening that there were no words to describe it.

Two enemies gleefully rejoiced. One regretful man pondered with his wife and daughter. An injured woman escaped her enraged husband. A wise old man shook his head in disappointment. A former soldier watched down from above. A son reconsidered his entire life. Two broken sisters cried in a burning room. They each asked the same question. _Alexander…what have you done?_

All of them had been changed by The Reynolds Pamphlet. They could only hope the writer had been changed the most.

* * *

 **And that was twice as long as the others. I just really like writing about Angelica, I guess. Next up would be Eliza but we already know how she reacted and nothing I write could do justice for the lovely song known as Burn.** **Thank you all so much for reading and a special thank you to everyone who reviewed. Each one made my day. See you all later.**


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